


work motto: the hotter you are; the faster we come

by ACatWhoWrites



Series: A Prompt a Day in the Month of May [22]
Category: C-Pop, EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Baekhyun is a fashion designer, Chanyeol is a firefighter, Everyone lives/Nobody dies, Fire, Gen, Microfic, Short One Shot, he's also a bit of a flirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 10:33:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14735330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACatWhoWrites/pseuds/ACatWhoWrites
Summary: If Chanyeol hadn't found Baekhyun, he'd really have gone out in a blaze of glory.





	work motto: the hotter you are; the faster we come

Baekhyun stands on a stool and claps his hands to gain the attention of the room. "Hey, here's a novel idea: Let's be ready _before_ the photographer gets here!" He drops the sarcasm when he hops to the floor and pulls a model to his feet, smacking his butt to make him walk faster. "Go get changed!

"That's lovely.” He nods at another model he's presented with, moving right along the line of makeup chairs without strict attention.

Baekhyun looks up when his assistant makeup artist stumbles into the room, shrieking in Mandarin and throwing his arms around. It's not unusual, although this is more a fearful panic than a frustrated hissy fit. Baekhyun nudges Yixing and nods to Zitao. "What is he saying?"

Yixing frowns and sets his brush on the arm of the sofa, jogging over to grab the boy's arms after he nearly hits another makeup artist. Like talking to a spooked cat, Yixing finally calms him down enough for him to repeat himself, voice low and tone urgent. Yixing spins back to Baekhyun with wide eyes. "He says the building is on fire!"

Then Baekyhun smells the heat. He rips his phone from his pocket and jumps on his stool again. "Everyone; drop what you're doing. I don't care what you're wearing or not. Just leave calmly and carefully." He dials emergency services and relays their location, watching everyone leave.

Zitao drags Yixing into the throng of semi-panicked fashionistas herding to safety. Baekhyun stalks through the other rooms to make sure everyone is out before returning to his concept board.

He tears sketches and notes down, stuffing them into his pockets with quick glances to the doorway. It may be a small fire that will burn itself out, or Zitao may have smelled the heat from an iron left on for too long. He's known for his rather feral looks, but he is more of a cowardly lion than mighty hunter.

With his pockets and hands full, Baekhyun hustles out and into the hall, immediately sensing his mistake. Just a few doors down the hall, and he's bent in half, hacking into his fist of notes. The smoke stings his eyes; the smell burns his nostrils. This way is dangerous.

When he turns, though, the hallway is gone. The walls, ceiling, and floor are roiling, ashy smoke. He remembers that heat rises and crouches to the floor, where it's a bit easier to breathe, but he's blind. He crawls in the direction he thinks is the way out, but it just keeps getting hotter.

He turns back to return the way he came. The heat intensifies. Sweat plasters his shirt to his back, and soot cakes his face, mixed with tears. Desperate, instinctive gasps draw in smoke that beat what little oxygen there is, and he retches on the taste. 

He collapses before his skin begins to melt from his bones, digging into his ribs to bruise his organs and throw him high into the heat. His arms fall out of their sockets, swinging uselessly. Vaguely, he thinks he hears voices, but they're muffled and alien. Someone may have left their music on in another room.

Cool air rushes over him suddenly, forcing his consciousness to claw through the haze. 

“Don't worry, dude. I've got you; you're safe.”

Hands are on his back and arms, slowly settling him on a gurney. A tall man in filthy yellow offers a sooty grin before slapping his face shield back down and returning to the inferno.

Even in the high of near asphyxia, Baekhyun's mind shallowly manages, _He's hot_ , and he tries to laugh, but there's no air. A paramedic eases an oxygen mask over Baekhyun's mouth and nose and instructs him to breathe normally.

The studio is engulfed in smoke. His life's work goes up in literal flames as he's gently lifted into the back of an ambulance and rushed to the hospital.

His burns are superficial. The worst of his condition is from smoke inhalation and mild carbon monoxide poisoning. Fainting is what saved him, everything rises with heat, so he was relatively safe on the floor.

His skin returns to its usual color after a day. His chest stops burning before his throat feels clear again, and he blows soot out of his nose for longer than he finds necessary, but it'll clear up.

Zitao and Yixing visit him with news of the studio. "Nothing could be saved, aside from what you grabbed. There were some minor explosions because of the hair products, too," Yixing reports solemnly.

Zitao fidgets the entire time, looking worried. It just takes a soft word from Yixing to get him to talk.

Tears well in Zitao's eyes, and he falls forward in a deep bow. " _It's all my fault!_ I left a curling iron on, and it fell into the waste basket! I'm _so_ sorry!"

“I can't say it's okay, because it's not, but...it wasn't intentional. Accidents happen, Zitao. Just try to not make it a habit.” Baekhyun manages a weak smile. “I don't think I can afford it.”

They look to the door when it opens, and a man knocks on the door frame. “Hey...I just wanted to see how you're doing.” He's very tall and handsome, but Baekhyun doesn't know him. “I'm Park Chanyeol, the firefighter who hauled you outside.” Zitao takes his hand and pumps it with grateful tears, blubbering his guilty confession in slurred Korean until Yixing takes him outside.

“...What was that?”

“He was just thanking you.” 

“Ah, well, just doing my job.” Chanyeol smiles wide, and Baekhyun sees the resemblance between the dirty firefighter and Chanyeol.

“I want to thank you, too. I get discharged later today. Are you free?”

“I'm always on call, but until a call comes in, yeah. Why?”

“Let me buy you a drink.” Baekhyun grins and winks. “You can't tell me you didn't find me hot when we first met.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Baekhyun has a fashion line, now.](https://www.vogue.com/article/baekhyun-launches-prive-by-bbh-streetwear-brandhttp://www.priveny.com/) ([Privé by BBH](http://www.priveny.com/)) Everything is white and overpriced, but hey. Atta boy for branching out!
> 
> I decided to try a prompt a day in May, not following any list. This came from **smoke**.


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